Zombie-Land (aka ‘NaNoWriMo Ate My Soul’)
There’s something easy about ignoring homework for the sake of NaNoWriMo. Priority is a no-brainer–I’m a writer!–and studying for finals is unimportant (note: it actually is, so disregard this if you can’t see the sarcasm)
But I didn’t ditch homework this year, because I’m a ‘College Graduate.’ Instead of homework and finals, I have work, which is a lot harder to flake on, especially when you depend on that weekly cheque for food and gasoline.
A fine line exists among priorities for a writer. On the one hand, work is crucial–any work, as long as it pays the bills. On the other hand, for careerist writers like myself, lack of sufficient time to focus on the craft is one of the biggest stressors imaginable. Writing consumes my mind to a point where I break down if I don’t get in a daily or weekly quota.
The result? November has come and gone, but I don’t feel recovered. The balance between work and craft still fights to be found. It’s tough to have writing as a priority when it’s not a reliable source of income.
Paparazzi At Sean Penn’s Wedding
“Welcome! Today, we’re going to create a sitcom.”
Terrifying way to introduce a lecture on television scripting. By the end of the seminar, we had a grand set up involving the main character, Sophia, successfully achieving paparazzi pictures of Sean Penn’s ruined wedding ceremony ^.^
My pursuit of screen-writing has only been active just under a year, but I’ve learnt a few things along the way. This seminar allowed me to understand why television is structured with seven acts and taught me the five crucial elements needed to create effective, marketable teleplays.
So what’s the “big secret” to television? The five crucial elements (drum-roll, please):
I. protagonist
II. protagonist’s need
III. stakes in protagonist’s way
IV. antagonist
V. opposite need of protagonist
Okay–not too shocking, if you know anything about writing. Every good story requires these elements.
Alan Zatkow, the guest-speaker, noted repeatedly that with all the scripts out there, agencies look for reasons to disqualify you without a single read. If script-readers find your story lacking an element, or parts of it, for whatever reason, you’re gone (eek! watch out for typos!)
With each day in my screen-writing studies, I find it easier and entertaining to dissect the shows I watch. For this reason, even though a lot of what the seminar taught seems like one big DUH, the discussion on the “Seven-Act” structure fascinates me the most.
Television shows, as a rule, have three story-lines per episode (A, B, C). Each story must have the typical beginning/middle/end structure. Yes, math geeks (and I use that term with endearment, of course), that adds up to nine, not seven. Here’s where Zatkow’s explanation fuels my dissection hobby:
The final acts for A and B are meant to collide, creating controlled chaos. In other words, chaos planned by the author–a concept I love to employ!
The more an author combines stories in an episode (this includes A, B, and C), the more brilliant her talents appear to script readers.
Very cool. 
Aside from networking and doubling my motivation for graduate school, Saturday’s seminar has added a new layer to my telly-watching radar.
Zatkow’s emphasis on structure creates a strong parallel between television writing and music composition: Structure MUST exist, but when an author combines the right amounts of complexity and originality to that structure, it disappears in the action. The story drives emotions, reels in the audience, and passes time. Makes studying shows somewhat of a treasure hunt with distractions, but I’m up for the challenge!
Besides, rules are “more like guidelines,” anyway 
Act Up! The World’s A Stage
I’ve always admired the ability to handle anything, conquer fear without broadcasting a lack of confidence. I don’t possess that ability. Unless I know exactly what must be done and how, I’m lost. Freak out. Implore others for guidance. Or at least take the time to calmly think of a solution.
No more.
Stress and instantaneous responses to tough situations. Both are expected and guaranteed in my new occupation. Without confidence, my job will shatter me. Not for a moment, but for the rest of my career with this particular group of individuals.
It’s tough knowing the goal is to be confident or fall. Anxiety licks my heels until I recall the idea learnt in my cognitive psych class: use all knowledge and experience universally. Do I have prior hands-on experience working in a field with individuals who have disabilities and behavioural difficulties?
No.
Can I project skills gained from animal care, behavioural studies, martial arts, and observation to create a personae that isolates weakness and ushers strength to the foreground?
Of course!
Psychology; theatre, film, acting; writing. Fields which rely on various behaviours and personality. In the correct mind-set, it isn’t hard to succeed. The trick lies in the hindrance of fear.
No confidence? Who cares! Pretend you do. Create an alter ego. Bury the fear behind a wall of cement and ignore its screams as it dies. Count to five. My personal favourite is singing from The Sound of Music:
Life dishes out bites which we swallow and digest before we get our next meal. Life knows when we’re ready for the next bite, when we need extra flavour. Life knows when we’re full.
Before my next meal, fear will be traded in for confidence.
Weighing the Value of Advanced Degrees
Screen-writing. A relatively new pursuit for me, and yet an obvious one given my tendency to think visually. The idea (nothing more than that till six months ago) has penetrated my soul and tangled deep roots around my Muse’s heart.
Writing tends to be a solitary activity, at least until revisions and marketing appear. Even then, most choices remain at the discretion of the writer. Screen-writing provides more opportunity–nay, more necessity for collaboration and teamwork. Visual writers must consider at all times how something will look on the screen, whether scenes are physically/financially possible to create. Scripts rely on actors, direction, music, costumes, and special effects to culminate with writing to deliver a product to audiences.
A cooperative-dependent burden, larger than providing words to encourage a reader’s individual imagination.
I’ve spent a lot of time pondering possible graduate school options, but appealing as most subjects are, writing is my main career objective. One thought often crossed my mind as I sat through my English classes: why study something that can be learnt alone? dedicate time and finances on a subject that ripens through practice and subtle improvements? Why sit in a classroom writing and analysing when the same can be done on a comfortable couch? Sure, attaching “creative writing” to an educational degree is a golden opportunity for undergraduate circumstances. Higher education + time to work on craft = understandable. But graduation formally presents students to the adult world, where labour occurs, bills must be paid, and for most of us, independent life essentially begins. The sensible step next step is an active role in your field, continuing your craft through experience and relentless pursuits of payable gigs.
So how do you justify graduate school for writers? Jael McHenry advises that the question isn’t “Do you need one [an MFA]?” but “Can you benefit from one?”
If you’d asked me last summer, my answer would probably be no. I’ve been a writer my entire life and I’ve grown accustomed to doing things myself, learning through experience and branching out my networks.
But like I said, screen-writing only became a concrete option six months ago. Since then, I’ve already learnt a lot through solo screen studies. I have a rough draft script that feels further along in the process than most of my novels from the past several years. The best part is that working with screen-writing has solidified a connexion to the rest of my creative processes.
The heightened collaboration for screen-writing over novel-writing argues for the benefit graduate school offers. My innate desires for travel, meeting new people and erudition suggest I follow this idea for graduate studies. Any advice on what schools to consider?
The Write Mind Is The Write Lifestyle
Hey look, it’s Tuesday! >.< This should’ve been posted yesterday, but time slipped from my grasp and I confess: I forgot.
Too much beach sun this weekend, perhaps?
I’m always chastising myself when I don’t get the chance to put down a few words each day. While the physical act of writing is, of course, a crucial part in the process, it’s not the only part. Writing is more than a full-time job. I equate it with my status as a martial artist: it’s a lifestyle. A set of behaviours that defines the way a person thinks, acts, and interacts.
Everything we do implicates who we are.
Few people understand the lifestyle behaviours of writers. The job’s description is a cumulation of various disciplines. Psychology, sociology, anthropology. Research, reports. Hypotheses, investigations, interpretations.
I can’t speak for everyone, but my leading writer-trait is observation. I take what I see and mould possible antecedents and consequences.
What-ifs.
Things I can’t know without bluntly asking (and assume people will answer honestly), but can imagine as truth based on evidence. Borrowed examples from reality to create circumstances in fiction. From there, stories evolve. Develop depth, complexity. Connexions to reality.
The other day on the beach, my friends called it “eavesdropping.”
Writers, by default, are curious nosey. Determined to learn all minutiae because of its rich value. “Eavesdropping,” if you will, is therefore a legal task in a writer’s career. Respected, understood. Even expected, à la Miranda rights–”Anything you say can and will be used in future pieces of writing.”
You’ve been warned. ;-p
For the Love of Art
Let’s face it: when you answer the “What do you want to do with your life?” question with something arts-y, people roll their eyes. They tell you to get your head out of the clouds. Only “really lucky” people manage to get anywhere in such fields. They ask what your back-up plan is.
o.O Back-up plan? What’s that?
I am what I am, and that won’t change to fit anyone else’s standards. I hold no unrealistic expectations about life as a writer. It’s a tough path that takes a lot of time and energy to pave into a gentle road. Most of us encounter road-blocks, but those who appreciate such challenges tread onward. Not because we enjoy rejections and failures, but because the expressive freedom art presents is too appealing to ignore. Those “failures” are stepping stones whence to learn and grow.
My exasperations arise when people ridicule my art, albeit unintentionally. Try to convince me it’s “not enough,” and I therefore must have something else in mind for a career.
Hello? I’m 23!
Sixteen years in academia doesn’t automatically mean I know exactly where I’m going and how I’ll get there. It means I’m equipped and ready to handle the journey as I seek my place in it. I don’t know what I want to do, except write. Something. Anything. Doesn’t matter what because it’s the creative process that excites me. Yet I know too many people who argue writing isn’t “useful” enough.
Useful? Writing is one of the most useful things in our society! Few do it well, which makes it a rare treasure.
I’m a dreamer. I have goals. Ambitions. A bucket list that stretches kilometres. Granted, they’ve evolved since I was eight-years-old, as they’re wont to do. That doesn’t justify I stop the chase. “Own Your Ambition” highlights this point with elegance. We all hold different values. Definitions for success and ambitions are as diverse as people. And some of us are determined enough to do whatever it takes for the love of art. It’s just another way to collect ideas/experiences along the way.
Bruce Lee says: “A goal is not always meant to be reached, it often simply serves as something to aim at.” Goals give us purpose. Guides, steering us through the journey of life in an educational and [hopefully] enjoyable way. Large or small matters not. It’s about balance. Serenity. Owning who we are.
What do I want to do with my life? Enjoy it!
Crash/Burn…And All That Jazz
Avoid cliches like the plague.
Those who construct language (aka writers such as myself) heed this warning well. After all, cliches are unoriginal. Overused. Exaggerated at times. There are occasions, however, when I agree with Mrs. Who that quoting the wisdom of others is the best way to express something otherwise “too difficult to verbalise” myself.
The weekend presented me with many rejections. Opportunities that I’ve patiently waited weeks to hear back from, only to crash-and-burn when follow-up conversations brought sour news. Why do I continuously set myself up for such disappointment? I’ve grown used to the concept over my life (it’s been my middle name for so long). Why not accept failure now while hope has been kicked to the ground? Take the “easy street” and accept as my home the pathetic pit whence there’s no escape.
Perseverence. Indomitability. Big words to describe a simple state of stubbornness. The inability to give up because allowing failure to define the self contradicts the personality lingering inside. I like to see it as martial arts invading my life, enriching it by dissuading defeat.
Regardless of the determination that’s developed in me over the years, I can’t help but cave to momentary bouts of discouragement from this Dense Fog. Many people offer kind words. Few actually add fuel to the fire (unintentional cliche usage). Neither aids my emotions during these times, which often reflects poorly on my attitude, pulling me deeper into the shadows.
Thankfully the years have also taught me how to rise up from the flames. Several methods cause that brief loss of hope to drain from my blood: quotes from people I admire, sparring/exercise, forcing productivity.
The best way to drag myself out of a slump is to work through that slump. Okay, so I’ve been rejected. I give myself a moment to cry, then tackle the fifteen other applications on my list. I’m still frustrated by the lack of visible progress, but look! the frustration made the pile of others disappear.
I’m behind the rest, but I’m still in the game. Still fighting for survival and waiting for that fight to pay off.
While all manner of quotes continue to lift my spirits, I rely on one specifically these days: “People told me, when I was coming through the ranks, that a mark of a great [actor] is one who deals with the period of unemployment as well as they deal with the period of employment.” (Claudia Black) Wisdomous words! Though they speak of actors, I see it as a reflective statement for all artists, including writers.
Why waste time being negative? There’s always that lapse, that bout of pity that rushes through the veins, but it’s in the act of returning to my feet with my head held high that proves I’m the worthy victor.
Rather than moping around, I choose to take advantage of not having a career (for the moment). Lots of free time and plenty to do. Staying busy keeps me focused on my goals.
Writing is a time-consuming process. If I wish to succeed, I must wake up every day with the intention of getting something accomplished. One word, one sentence, one paragraph. Doesn’t matter as long as it’s something. Writing cover letters for jobs, e-mails to friends, forum messages, status updates. Doesn’t matter, as long as my fingers type and words appear. Brain spins, mind turns.
Exercise. As a martial artist, getting in shape and staying in shape is crucial to performance. It’s also one of my 2010 goals to maintain a healthier lifestyle. I’ve done well so far, especially since ditching my biggest vice.
Occupation. Volunteer-work, internships, part-time jobs. Experience and pocket cash trump pessimism in my opinion. I have goals, I’m just taking baby steps to get to those goals. Until then, I’m learning what I can and saving what I can while doing what I can to speed the process.
Why Is It Bad To Do What You Love?
Given my status as a recent graduate, it’s only fitting to write about seeking a career. The ultimate task that will direct my path into adulthood. Should be easy, right? I’m a writer; it’s what I do, how I think, how I interact with the world. My lens. And once I stop being lazy and get my work published, I’ll get paid for doing what I love. Bonus!
But wait–there’s more:
“If you tell yourself that your job has to be something you’d do even if you didn’t get paid, you’ll be looking for a long time. Maybe forever. So why set that standard? The reward for doing a job is contributing to something larger than you are, participating in society, and being valued in the form of money.”
That quote comes from a post I found at Brazen Careerist. The title, “Bad career advice: Do what you love,” is what pulled me into the article. I wondered what was so wrong about wanting a happy, enjoyable career. Thankfully, I read on, discovering an interesting take on the subject. Due to the complexity of humans (we’re “like onions,” full of layers), it’s impossible to love any one thing. Just look at my myriad hobbies and interests; they’re weeds that grow every day. I haven’t time to tame them all, though as a writer, it’s easy to think of ways in which to incorporate several, if not all.
Even then, life as a writer is challenging. It’s not guaranteed money, at least not in my subfield (fiction). The thought always lingers in the back of my mind. After my freshman year at uni, I decided to move writing to the back-burner. That presented a new problem: what else could I focus my life on? What could possibly motivate me enough to wake up day after day and think: “Yeah, this is what I do. This is who I am.” Long story short, I found myself back where I started. Instead of returning to an English major, however, I signed up for liberal studies. Concentrated on three subjects, and yet here I am again. Still appetent to write, still trying to find my place.
I think the “problem” started with my first job. At orientation, one of the managers told us: “If a job stops being fun for you, move on.” It makes sense, so I adopted it as a mantra. After all, who wants a job that leads no where and stimulates nothing more than agonising boredom?
The problem, however, remains. If all I know is what I’m good at, what interests me, and what I see myself doing every day for the rest of my life (writing), how then do I find a job that fits? Penelope Trunk says: “Do not what you love; do what you are.” Okay… so what am I? A long, never-ending philosophical question for sure. I don’t think any job will ever fully answer that for me. I may find work and I hope I enjoy that work. At the end of the day, though, “what am I?” will still be answered: “An artist.” It’s unavoidable. It’s how I define myself and how I view the world. No job will change that.
Regardless, we all need a regular income. As Trunk advises: “Take a job. Any job… Just do something that caters to your strengths. Do anything.” The heart of career advice. In that respect, “what am I?” can easily be applied. As an artist–and through all of my interests–my ultimate goal is the constant quest for knowledge, improvement. Learning never ends; that’s something I’ve always cherished and relied on. I love learning new things, and I love deepening what I already know.
That’s my guide, my motivation. What I am is a strong-willed, open-minded, creative individual who can take any challenge placed before me and thrive.
Rewind, Hold Up! Start Again?
Learning never ends. A concept I’ve grown fond of over the years. Regardless, my career in an academic setting is finally at an end (unless I pursue graduate school). So much time and money invested in a collegiate education, yet it’s only now as graduation looms that I catch a glimpse of where I want to go.
Is that right?
Idealistically, the “Big Revelation” should’ve happened when I was a freshman. In need of a clear head and eager to pursue classes suited to my needs.
Too late, time’s up, trod on.
As freshmen, my peers and I had a “welcome to college” class requirement. One assignment asked for a self-description of our lives in X-years. Even though I didn’t have specifics, there were vague ideas that had developed over the years. College was my ticket to the world, the step between branch and sky. A home, a job, and hopefully a family. Realistic enough, I suppose. Except four years later, I sit in a fog denser than I ever imagined.
What happened to my childhood certainty of being a veterinarian? Doing something I loved by working with animals. (okay: that dream left when I realised I’m too emotionally sensitive for such a field)
In Disney’s The Kid, Bruce Willis’s character holds a conversation with Jean Smart’s about childhood dreams. They talk about how people grow up and dreams evolve into a more realistic sense of what must get done in order to make a living. The astronaut, the prima ballerina–they get stuffed in a closet to collect dust and be forgotten. But why should dreams suffer for the sake of an income?
Chase it! Make it work!
That’s how you evaluate success. Fight for what matters, and enjoy the journey. It’ll be rough–depressing at times. But it beats falling into a routine and rotting with dissatisfaction.
Before college, I was full of certainty. Now I don’t even know where I’ll be in a couple of weeks. I don’t know what’s in store for my future, but I’m open to whatever comes my way. Ideas stampede toward me, and I continue writing.
Always writing.
Positive Compulsion
Last night was the ‘Thank God It’s Over’ (TGIO) party for my NaNoWriMo region.
2009 has been the most inspirational year out of the three I’ve participated in thus far. There’s a liveliness and camaraderie I missed before. For the first time probably in my life, I’m with a group of like-minded individuals and I genuinely feel accepted, embraced for all my quirkiness (in this case, the norm).
Our regional leader gave a brief speech that reassures my goals as a writer. She reminded us that the events of November are a fun activity for anyone, but added that those who want to pursue the art of writing need to make a full commitment. Be compulsive! Write every day, regardless of the quality. Make sure thoughts get put on paper (or screen).
Typical pep-talk heard within most writing communities (at least the ones I’ve been around). A mantra that drives me as I grow in my skills and realise it’s the only way to achieve success.
Quality has hindered my progress in the past. For sure, it’s the reason I don’t already have a lot of finished projects. I have NaNo to thank for pulling me out of the quality quicksand. Three years later, I have the confidence to pull ahead and get the words out, leaving the tweaks and revision for later. It’s refreshing to be conscious of progress, though I know there’s still miles of work ahead for me. Despite all that, I look forward to off-season revision meet-ups with my regional mates.
Next year starts my journey into novel publication. It’s something I should’ve started years ago, but life always insists I stay on the opposite shore.
(funny how life enjoys doing that)
No more! say I. It’s time to get my foot in the door and attempt to survive in the world the only way I know how: through my imagination.
Cage That Editor!
National Novel Writing Month. A nation-wide global event that encourages writers (novice, expert, published or not) to complete a novel draft within thirty days.
Alas, I discovered it at the end of November, 2006 
but that didn’t deter my enthusiasm. I spent the next year reading up on it. Two years later, I’ve written about 65,000 words for NaNoWriMo, but Bettina still interferes across the other 335 days of the year.
The energy of November is contagious. Everyone taps away at their keyboards, excited to cross the victory line. Each immersed in worlds away from reality. Bills, jobs, non-writely friends disappear (despite their thinking we’ve gone AWOL). Nothing exists but the words on the page, and even those are trivial in meaning. The point is to stash your editor in a dungeon (that’s right–why think small when it’s your imagination?) for a month and focus on quantity rather than quality.
That’s how rough drafts are formed.
Most true writing evolves from re-writing, yet many writers find themselves bogged down by the stress of making everything perfect on the first go.
Bad approach.
Creative freedom only lends itself when the mastermind allows. Let nonsense flow from your fingertips. Let an unrelated scene pour onto your pages. Chances are it won’t make the final cut, but it’s an exploration. That’s how we learn about ourselves. Your novel is the same, learning about itself by testing different possibilities until it finds the one that glues it together.
But how to evade the presence of typical writing problems? Chapter-chronology hasn’t worked, and outlines eat your only free time. So what can you do to ward off the voices until you’re ready for their help?
A different approach birthed for me before midnight struck. A new tactic: The Last Chapter, first.
My golden ticket!
Defeat over writer’s block lies within your method of writing.
I changed it up and now my fingers run on jet fuel. Can I maintain this pace another 27 days? What will happen at December’s sunrise? I want to continue working on my novels because it’s not enough to have ideas floating inside. They must be released to the world–or at least the inside of my filing cabinet–so I can move on and discover new stories.
So how can you fuel this magnitude of progress once November passes its baton?
By keeping NaNoWriMo’s energy in mind. Forget about the quality of initial drafts until you’ve worked through an entire novel. Reward yourself for small victories (every few hundred words, every five pages, every chapter end, etc.) and allow yourself a huuuge prize for the larger victories (laundry and a good night sleep, perhaps?) At the end of a draft, take a week’s holiday–you’ve earned it! Find a peer group–huge help! A buddy-system to keep your discipline in check and assure everyone’s accountable for lack of writing.
Remember: writing is work, like any other job. But it always helps to have a little fun.
Evolution Of A Niche
Being somewhat new to the concept of blogs, I’ve spent time researching the benefits they bring to writers. Results concur that successful blog management is difficult and time-consuming, but the potential it donates to a writer’s career may be worth the effort.
So hi!
My biggest concern is choosing a focus–a niche with enough influence to fuel motivation. True to the writing process, the most important thing is to get start. Let things flow; the niche will evolve with time.
Still, I struggle with how best to start, bogged down by the stress of everything going on right now.
That’s when it hit me: I’m a 20+ want-to-be-published writer who is graduating university in approximately two months. Years of loan debts await repayment. I join the ranks of homeless graduates seeking any and every way to save money. My focus is writing, but my responsibility is winning a job. In this economy, that spells stress-overdose.
The unknown fills me with anxiety. The world holds many opportunities, however, and I’m going to do what I can to handle the stress in a positive way. After all, freedom from the classroom = freedom to fill the days with writing. Résumés, cover letters, general fiction. At least writing removes some stress from my life.
